The last month had been strange for Steve Harrington. Everything felt slightly off, like the world had shifted, and he was left trying to find his balance. Things with Nancy weren't bad—at least, not on the surface—but something had changed. Ever since Barb's death, there'd been a shadow hanging over Nancy, something she tried to hide but couldn't shake. Steve felt that weight between them every time they were together, like an unspoken rift that he didn't know how to bridge. He wanted to help, but every attempt he made felt like it fell short, only making her retreat further.
Still, that wasn't the only thing on his mind.
Ever since that night at the end of the summer, DoveHenderson had become a regular part of his thoughts. At first, he hadn't paid much attention to the rumors—Hawkins High thrived on gossip, and most of it was total garbage. But it wasn't long before he started hearing Dove's name linked with Billy Hargrove, and suddenly the whispers became harder to ignore.
Steve remembered that night vividly. He had been driving home from Nancy's, the road empty and quiet, when he'd spotted Dove on the side of the road. He didn't recognize her at first. She was hunched over, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes red and puffy like she'd been crying. He could still recall the look in her eyes when she glanced up at him—haunted, broken, like she was barely holding herself together.
Billy, of course, had made a point of telling anyone who would listen that they'd hooked up. He bragged about it like it was just another story to add to his list, some casual conquest he could laugh about. But when Steve had seen her that night, she didn't look like someone who'd just had a fun night out. She looked shattered.
It didn't match the rumors, didn't fit the story Billy was spreading. And Steve wasn't blind; he'd seen the way Billy's friends nudged each other, laughing whenever she passed. At first, Steve told himself it wasn't his business. He barely knew Dove. But as the days passed, he couldn't shake the feeling that something about the situation was wrong.
Then came that scene in the hallway—a few weeks back, when Billy had approached Dove with his cocky smirk, clearly trying to goad her. Steve hadn't been close enough to hear everything, but he'd seen the way Dove squared her shoulders and answered Billy back, her voice carrying through the hallway as she shut him down with a look of pure steel. The rumors had shifted after that, some new story circulating that made Dove's name a punchline among Billy's crowd.
And now, a month later, she was still on his mind. Steve wasn't sure why, but every time he caught a glimpse of her in the hall, he felt that same tug of curiosity.
He was standing next to Nancy at their lockers, her voice drifting in and out as she talked about the dinner they had planned with Barb's parents for later that night. But his attention kept shifting, his gaze drawn down the hall to where Dove stood at her locker. She was focused, tucking a few books into her bag, her shoulders stiff as if bracing herself for something.
He watched as Carol, Tina, and Vicki made their way toward her, Carol leading the pack with her trademark smirk. Steve could tell just from her expression that Carol was about to pull one of her usual stunts, pushing and prodding to get under Dove's skin. He was too far away to hear what Carol said, but he saw Dove's expression stay perfectly neutral, refusing to give Carol any reaction.
Dove's restraint seemed to throw Carol off a little, but then Tina reached into her bag and pulled out a bright orange flyer, thrusting it toward Dove. Steve recognized it immediately—Tina's infamous Halloween party invite.
To his surprise, Dove didn't turn away or rip it up. She glanced at the flyer, then nodded, tucking it into her bag and giving the girls a polite smile before turning back to her locker. Carol's smirk faltered, and Steve caught the flash of annoyance on her face as she and her friends exchanged a look, clearly not expecting Dove to agree to go.
Nancy's voice drew him back, and he turned his attention to her, forcing a nod as she talked. But his thoughts kept drifting, his gaze sliding back down the hallway where Dove had been.
Dove stood outside Tina's house, adjusting her dress—a shorter take on Holly Golightly's iconic black gown, the hem stopping just at her knees. The pearls, the black gloves, the elegant bun, and the tiara completed the look, but now that she was here, she felt that familiar flicker of doubt. Maybe showing up had been a mistake.
Before she could make up her mind, the door swung open, and there was Tina, dressed in a white lace and tulle ensemble with fingerless gloves and an impressive mess of teased hair. Her eyes were bright, slightly glazed from the drinks she'd already had.
"Dove Henderson," Tina said, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Didn't think you'd actually show." She didn't wait for a response, just grinned and grabbed Dove's hand, pulling her inside. "Come on! We need to get you a drink!"
Tina tugged Dove through the crowded living room, barely slowing down to shout greetings at people and wave to others. Flashing lights cast everything in neon, and laughter and shouting filled the air as people danced or crowded around in their costumes. Tina called out to a few people, pointing at Dove with a playful grin, but Dove couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of being on display.
They reached the kitchen, where Dove's eyes immediately fell on Billy. He was leaning casually against the counter by the back door, his leather jacket open to show him shirtless underneath. He seemed deep in conversation with Steve, who wore a black jacket and sunglasses. Beside him, Nancy, dressed in a white shirt with a black bow around her neck, looked over with a disinterested expression, rolling her eyes at whatever the two were talking about.
Nancy spotted Dove and broke away, moving over to the punch bowl where Dove and Tina had stopped. She raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and faint approval. "Holly Golightly, right?" she asked, her tone surprisingly friendly.
Dove nodded and Nancy gave her a small smile before glancing over at the punch bowl and wrinkling her nose. "What's in this?"
The guy standing next to it, dressed in a toga made from a bedsheet with a laurel crown on his head, overheard her and turned, grinning widely. "Pure fuel! Pure fuel! Woo!" he yelled, stumbling away with his cup held high.
Nancy snorted, shaking her head. She looked back at Dove, filling a cup for herself. "Guess we'll find out the hard way," she said, offering one to Dove as well.
Dove took the drink, managing a small, grateful smile. She was about to relax when she glanced back toward the door, only to find Billy looking in her direction, his cocky grin flashing as he nudged Steve and gestured her way. Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to ignore it, focusing on the drink in her hand and Nancy's steady presence beside her.
Nancy didn't hesitate; she brought the cup to her lips and chugged the punch, barely wincing at the taste. As she downed the last drop, Steve approached, pulling off his sunglasses and frowning slightly. "Whoa, take it easy, Nance," he said, his voice tinged with concern.
Nancy just rolled her eyes, holding out her empty cup with a shrug. "Relax, Steve. We're just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn't that the deal?" Without waiting for his response, she dipped the cup back into the punch, filling it to the brim before tossing it back again. A few drips escaped, and she wiped them from her face, flashing Steve a challenging look, as if daring him to say something.
Then, without missing a beat, she turned to Dove, a playful gleam in her eye. "Come on, Holly. Let's dance." Before Dove could protest, Nancy grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the crowded living room, where the music was thumping and people were already swaying and spinning to the beat.
Dove stumbled slightly as Nancy dragged her to the center of the makeshift dance floor, laughter bubbling up in her chest despite herself. Nancy let out a whoop, her arms thrown up as she started to sway to the music, her energy infectious. Dove couldn't help but smile, letting the beat take over as they moved together, the rest of the room blurring into the background.
After a few minutes, Nancy glanced down at the cup in Dove's hands, a playful grin spreading across her face. "Are you gonna drink that, or what?" she asked.
Dove shook her head, holding the cup out to Nancy. "It's all yours."
With a mischievous glint in her eye, Nancy took the cup and chugged it down in a few quick gulps, wiping her mouth with a satisfied sigh. Just as she tossed the empty cup aside, Steve came up behind them, his expression caught between amusement and worry as he watched Nancy.
The three of them continued to dance, though Dove could tell Steve was tense, his gaze flicking back to Nancy with concern as she let loose, spinning and laughing without a care. When Nancy stumbled slightly, her laughter breaking into a small hiccup, she turned toward the kitchen, her eyes landing on the punch bowl.
"Time for a refill!" she declared, starting to move away.
Steve reached out, catching her arm gently. "Nancy, maybe you've had enough," he said, his voice calm but firm.
Nancy pulled her arm free, waving him off with a smile. "Oh, come on, Steve! We're supposed to be having fun, remember?" She gave him a look that was both challenging and playful before heading toward the punch bowl, weaving slightly as she went.
Steve hesitated, glancing back at Dove with an apologetic look before following Nancy, his expression tight with worry as he trailed after her.
Dove stood alone in the middle of the dance floor, the music thumping around her as she watched them go. The lively energy of the room pressed in, but for a moment, she felt like she was on the outside looking in, the carefree atmosphere suddenly feeling fragile.
As Dove watched Steve and Nancy disappear into the kitchen, she felt a shift in the air behind her. Turning, she saw Billy sauntering over, his eyes glinting with that familiar smirk as he sized her up.
"Looks like you need a new dance partner," he drawled, stepping closer, his voice dripping with mock charm.
Dove felt a surge of anger rise up. Without hesitating, she placed a firm hand on his chest and shoved him back. "Not a chance, Billy."
He chuckled, barely thrown off balance, his smirk widening as he leaned in a bit closer, ignoring her clear rejection. "Aw, don't be like that. I thought we were friends, Dove."
She felt a surge of disgust as he moved closer, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of another reaction. She shoved past him and through the crowded room, heading straight for the front door. She pushed it open, slipping outside into the cool night air, letting it wash over her as she caught her breath.
The sound of the party buzzed behind her, but out here, she could finally breathe, away from Billy's smug presence and the chaotic energy of the house.
"You trying to escape, too?"
Dove looked up, startled, and found herself face-to-face with Eddie Munson, leaning casually against a car parked on Tina's lawn. He was dressed head-to-toe in black, with dark makeup smudged around his eyes and fake blood dripping from the corners of his mouth—a gothy vampire with an almost androgynous edge. A joint dangled from his fingers, smoke curling lazily into the night air. A couple of his friends, Dougie and Ronnie, dressed in similarly dark costumes, lingered nearby, watching her with curious, relaxed expressions.
Eddie tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he held the joint up between his fingers. "Want to join us?"
Dove hesitated, glancing at the joint and then back at him. "I.. I don't smoke."
The group chuckled, exchanging amused looks. Eddie raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Who said anything about smoking, Princess?" he teased, his tone light and easy.
Dove blinked, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "Right.. sorry," she mumbled, feeling a bit foolish. But Eddie just chuckled, nodding toward the car.
"Come on, take a break. We're all escaping something tonight, right?" He gestured to the small, makeshift circle his friends had formed.
After a brief hesitation, Dove nodded, walking over to join them. She stepped into the small circle, her arms wrapping around herself, both to ward off the chill in the night air and to feel a little smaller, to shrink back from all the noise and drama inside. She glanced around, feeling a little out of place as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
Eddie noticed, his eyes softening as he watched her. "Relax, Princess," he said with an easy grin. "You're among friends here." He passed the joint to Ronnie, who took it with a practiced nod and inhaled, blowing out a thin stream of smoke as she leaned back.
Ronnie looked over at Dove, a kind smile spreading across her lips. "Just so you know," she said, her tone warm and sincere, "we're not buying a word of Billy's bullshit. The way you turned that shit back on him was legendary." She gave Dove an approving nod, her words genuine, with a flicker of admiration that made Dove's chest feel a little lighter.
Eddie nodded in agreement, his gaze steady as he looked at Dove. "Billy's a complete asshole, but half the school doesn't notice because, well, his butt looks great in his jeans," he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Seeing you knock him down a peg? Beyond satisfying."
Dove couldn't help but let out a small laugh, her shoulders relaxing as she took in the genuine amusement on their faces. It was strange, almost surreal, to hear Eddie joke about the whole situation. For so long, she'd been carrying around the shame and anger of it alone.
"He had it coming," Dougie added, grinning. "Not many people have the guts to call him out, especially in front of everyone. You kind of shook things up around here, and, well, we appreciate a little chaos."
Dove smiled, feeling warmth creep into her chest. She'd thought everyone was still whispering about her, not about what she'd done to stand up for herself.
Before they could say anything more, the front door flew open, slamming against the side of the house with a loud bang. Dove and the others looked up to see Steve rushing out, his expression clouded with a mix of sadness and frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to hold himself together.
Eddie let out a low, amused chuckle. "Looks like Steve 'The Hair' Harrington is having a rough night. Poor guy," he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy.
But before anyone could laugh, Steve looked up and locked eyes with Dove. Eddie's smirk faded, and he mumbled, "Shit.. do you think he heard me?"
Steve seemed to hesitate for a moment, then squared his shoulders and began walking toward their small circle. The flicker of pain in his eyes softened as he reached them, his gaze settling on Dove. The group went quiet, Eddie shifting uncomfortably beside her as Steve stepped closer, his usual confidence replaced by something far more vulnerable.
Dove hesitated, noting the tension in Steve's posture, the way his fists clenched and unclenched by his sides. "Is Nancy okay?" she asked.
An unreadable emotion flickered across Steve's face—something between hurt and frustration—before he quickly masked it. "Yeah, she's fine," he said, his voice a little rough. He looked like he was about to explain further, but then his mouth snapped shut, as if deciding against it. After an awkward pause, he scratched the back of his neck and looked down at her. "Do you, uh.. need a ride home?"
The question caught Dove off guard. She felt Eddie and the others shift beside her, their curious gazes flicking between her and Steve. But one look at Steve's face, the vulnerability hidden behind his usual mask of confidence, and Dove knew he was genuinely reaching out, perhaps needing a distraction from whatever was bothering him.
"Sure," she said finally, nodding.
As Dove followed Steve away from Eddie and his friends, she caught Eddie's eye. He gave her an exaggerated wink and a smirk, but he didn't comment. Instead, he just held up a hand in a casual wave. "Catch you later, Princess," he said with a small grin.
They drove in silence, the hum of the engine filling the car as the party lights faded into the distance. Dove shifted in her seat, glancing over at Steve from time to time, wondering what he was thinking, why he'd even offered her a ride. She could feel the tension radiating off him, an invisible weight pressing down on them both. Her mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened inside with Nancy, trying to make sense of why Steve seemed so.. lost.
As the silence stretched on, Dove's thoughts began to drift to herself, to the strange turn her night had taken. A month ago, she would have laughed at the idea of sitting in Steve Harrington's car. But here they were, and she couldn't help but feel a small pang of empathy as he drove on, his face unreadable.
Suddenly, Steve took an unexpected turn, and Dove's stomach twisted as he pulled into an empty parking lot. Her heart sped up, and memories from that awful night with Billy surfaced, clawing at her as the car came to a stop. Her pulse hammered as she fought to stay calm, forcing herself to take a steady breath as Steve stopped and shifted the car into park.
Dove turned to look at him, her muscles tense as her eyes darted to his face, half-expecting to see the same smirk Billy had worn. But to her surprise, Steve wasn't even looking at her. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, and he stared straight ahead.
There was something raw, something almost broken, in the way he sat there, and it made Dove's heart clench. The tension shifted from fear to a strange, unspoken understanding.
Steve took a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. Dove watched him, the vulnerability in his posture surprising her. After a moment, she couldn't hold back the question, her voice barely a whisper.
"Are you.. okay?"
"Yeah," he said, his eyes opening to look at the ceiling. "Sorry. I just.. I just needed to stop for a second."
They sat in silence, and she thought he might leave it at that. But after a beat, he looked at her, his expression unguarded. "Do you ever feel like everything's spiraling out of control? And.. and there's nothing you can do to stop it?"
Dove blinked, surprised by the rawness of his question. She raised an eyebrow, the irony of him asking her something like that almost laughable. Steve seemed to realize this at the same time, his face flushing slightly. He looked away, clearing his throat. "Sorry, that was.. that was a dumb question," he muttered, his voice barely audible, clearly embarrassed.
But he didn't stop there. As if the words had been held back for too long, he began to ramble, his voice low and stumbling. "It's just.. things have been weird with Nancy. I mean, tonight she basically said our entire relationship was bullshit." He laughed bitterly, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "I know she was drunk, but.. I could tell she meant it. You know, when someone's drunk, they just.. they say stuff they wouldn't normally say, but it's real. And.. it hurt. And ever since.."
He paused, his face flickering with hesitation, as if he were about to say something more, something heavy, but then he stopped himself.
Clearing his throat, he gathered himself. "After what that happened last year, everything is different. It's like.. everything I thought I knew just.. I don't know.. slipped away." His voice softened, a sadness bleeding through his words. He sat there, not meeting her eyes, as if the weight of it all was too much to share completely.
Dove watched him, feeling a pang of empathy she hadn't expected. Seeing him like this—stripped of the confidence he usually wore so easily—felt strangely grounding. This wasn't the Steve Harrington she'd heard about in the hallways or seen with his perfect hair and easy smile, surrounded by friends. This was someone lost, someone who felt the weight of something he couldn't quite articulate.
She took a breath, and when she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but steady. "It's like.. everything you think you know, all the plans you have.. they just stop making sense. And you're left trying to figure out what's even real anymore."
Steve looked at her then, his eyes softened with a quiet understanding, like her words resonated in a way she didn't fully understand. For a moment, the silence between them was comfortable, as though they were both treading water in the same unfamiliar sea.
Steve cleared his throat, his gaze shifting away from hers as he focused straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice low and awkward, as though embarrassed by his own vulnerability. "I didn't mean to dump all that on you."
Dove shook her head slightly, wanting to reassure him, but he was already pulling himself back together, his walls coming up again. "I'll.. I'll take you home now," he said, his voice steadier, but with an edge of discomfort, like he was still wrestling with everything he'd let slip.
She nodded, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he shifted the car into gear and pulled back onto the road, the silence settling between them once more.